An Awfully Big Adventure
by Ryan Brooklyn
Summary: Movieverse. When Peter Pan leaves Neverland to hear a certain storyteller, the Lost Boys encounter pirates, Indians, mermaids, and fairies all while trying to keep peace between them.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own any of the Lost Boys or anything in Neverland. All that wonderful creativity belongs to J.M. Barrie._

**Genre:** Action/Adventure/Drama/Friendship

**Rating:** PG

**Summary: **Movieverse.When Peter Pan leaves Neverland to hear a certain storyteller, the Lost Boys encounter pirates, Indians, mermaids, and fairies all while trying to keep peace between them.

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****Prologue**

The children crowded around me, each one begging for a story. I tried to hold them off, glancing over at one of my cousins for assistance. He just snickered at my predicament. I realized I could not have expected any more from him. I did not have the heart to turn down the children, telling them that I had work to attend to, and see their faces fall in severe disappointment.

Therefore I sighed and told Mother that I would not be joining Uncle at his work downtown. The children whooped in delight and led me over to the storytelling chair. It was a large winged-back chair that had been handed down through several generations. Mother got it from her mother, who got it from _her_ mother, all the way up the time of Queen Elizabeth (or so they said).

It was a pretty good looking chair for being so old, although I think they had reupholstered it several times. I came to the conclusion early on that it was just a new chair all together that just _looked_ exactly like the one from Queen Elizabeth's reign. That seemed to make more sense but when I suggested it everyone acted like I had said something scandalous. So I kept my beliefs about the chair to myself and pretended, like everyone else, that it was a couple hundred years old.

I settled down into it, the children gathering at my feet. My cousin leaned in the doorway, his arms crossed, and his light brown hair falling into his face as he watched me. I could feel his eyes on me as I smiled down at the children, wondering why it had to be him of all people to help me take care of the children.

This was usually the Wendy-lady's job. She was the one with the best stories and the children adored her. However today she had forgotten about an important errand and had left me to take care of the children until she got back.

"Just tell them stories, Slightly," she told me as she breezed by, her long dress trailing the ground after her. "And they'll love you."

I had watched her leave with my mouth agape, before being swamped by ten or so young ones. I had pleaded my cousins to help me, but most of them had an excuse to leave me alone to my fate. In the end it was Nibs who had nothing to do. Although I began believe he had stayed simply to watch me suffer because he had not offered any help so far.

"What story do you want to hear?" I asked, placing my hands on my lanky legs. At sixteen I had stretched out to a tall young man of mostly arms and legs and many times I felt awkward. Nibs, now seventeen, did not have that problem, lucky dog. He was shorter than me (barely having passed the Wendy-lady's height), but was wiry and somewhat stocky. Already he had several girls hankering for him. I had yet to experience that kind of attention.

Michael and the Twins were all twelve years of age and as mischievous as ever. The Twins still did not have proper names, just nicknames various people called them. They were still just "The Twins" to us. John was doing well in school. He said he wanted to be a lawyer or a doctor, so he had gone away just this past year. Wendy and Michael wrote to him a lot.

Tootles had not lost any weight, even now at fifteen. He was still chubby but he was as tall as me and as helpful and cheerful as always. Curly still had his head full of wild curls and his freckles, his body lean and tall for his seventeen years of age. Girls did not flock to him like they did Nibs, for he was a quiet fellow, sweet and kind, but not very talkative. However he did receive several Valentines come Valentine's Day, much to our surprise. Nibs and I could not help laughing out loud when his ears turned as pink as Nanna's tongue.

We used to wonder why Tootles never got any girls, he was nice enough. But we soon learned that he could barely speak to any girl besides the Wendy-lady without getting tongue-tied. Nibs loved to tease him mercilessly about it, but I tried my best to be sympathetic. Curly always was a comfort to Tootles and they soon became inseparable. I was happy for them, of course, but sometimes wondered why I had to be the one stuck with Nibs. Heaven knew how many times we butted heads.

John had a lady friend at his college, and the Wendy-lady had many young suitors. That was part of the reason she had to leave the children with me. A dashing young man by the name of Horace had asked to court her and they were going out on the town tomorrow night and she said she must have new gloves. I did not really understand what was wrong with her old ones, but she insisted and so here I was.

"I want to hear about Neverland!" one little boy with missing front teeth exclaimed. I blinked, wondering how they knew about Neverland. I glanced up at Nibs and he shrugged helplessly. I turned to the children who were now all clamoring for a story about Neverland. I wracked my brain, wondering what I could tell them without incriminating myself.

"Have you ever been to Neverland, Mr. Slightly?" asked one little girl with blond pigtails.

I blinked and gulped, wondering how much the Wendy-lady had told them about Neverland. My question was answered for me when a small boy with big spectacles shouted out from the back:

"Miss Wendy says she's been there! And she's mentioned you too!"

"Were you a Lost Boy, Mr. Slightly?" the little girl asked.

I sighed, figuring I might as well play along. Nibs had stepped further into the room which made me remember a certain adventure we Lost Boys had had one day (or was it one week?) when Peter had been off visiting the Wendy-lady and listening to her stories. I started off with a classic beginning line:

"It was a dark and stormy night . . ."

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**So yeah, starting another multi-chaptered story. Review and tell me what you think of it so far! :-D**


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

Being the smartest and wisest of the Lost Boys (or so I presumed), whenever Peter was away, I was left in charge. Really the only one who had a problem with that was Nibs who, considering he was older than me, thought often that he should be the leader. However my firm resolve to maintain my high position kept everyone else at bay.

On that particular day, we had had a long hard (somewhat good-natured) fight with the Indians and were very tired. The Twins had already drifted off to sleep in our Home Under the Ground, and Nibs, Curly, Tootles, and I were drowsily waiting for Peter's return. After a few moments I had an idea.

"Say," I cried out and Curly and Tootles knocked heads as they abruptly sat up from where they were dozing off. "If Peter doesn't come back tomorrow, how about we have some fun with the pirates?"

Nibs instantly agreed but Curly and Tootles looked skeptical. "What kind of fun?" Curly asked cautiously.

"A battle," I stated, eyes gleaming with excitement. Nibs laughed aloud in joy at the prospect. Tootles looked apprehensive.

"Without Peter?" he asked nervously.

"We've done battles without Peter before," I said haughtily, trying to recall some and coming up with no examples.

"When?" Curly demanded. I frowned.

"Okay fine then, this'll be the first time, but I'm sure we can do it! We don't have to come away with loot, just rough them up a smidge."

"What's the point if we don't have any loot?" Tootles wanted to know. The poor thing looked horribly confused. Nibs huffed in frustration.

"Don't you ever want to fight just for the fun of it?" he asked, grinning somewhat deviously. Curly and I scooted slightly away from him.

"Not . . . really," poor Tootles admitted.

Nibs simply scoffed and began to draw up some battle plans in the dirt with one grubby finger. I moved back close to him so I could lean on his shoulder and see what he was planning. Tootles and Curly watched us with wide-eyes. I pointed out at one point that our attack might be better coming from the south, seeing as the lagoon full of mermaids were to the west. Nibs scowled at the suggestion, but after a short while he realized that I was right (as always) so he scratched out that part and began again. Nodding my approval, I backed off.

Curly and Tootles were whispering quietly between themselves but then stopped abruptly when I approached. I did not think much of it then as I should have, but my pride was large and it did not even enter my head that they could have been talking about me.

"Go to sleep," I ordered them. "Nibs and I will have worked out a plan in the morning but you guys need to be ready." They exchanged glances but shrugged and obeyed.

Nibs was again trying to think of a way to come in from the west. Again I corrected him. He huffed in frustration.

"The west is the quickest way!" he hissed, keeping his voice down because of the Twins and Curly and Tootles.

"Not if we get caught by the mermaids and nearly drown!" I shot back, trying to make him see reason.

"They never bother Peter," Nibs said petulantly.

"They like Peter, but no one else. It's too dangerous to go west, we must go south!"

"The fairies live to the south!"

"So? What of it?"

"They like to trick and confuse you! And it's pointless to try and reason with them when they want to play." He sounded like a pouting child, which, in fact, he was. "If we're going out to fight, then I want to fight!"

I blinked at him for a moment. "You're so violent." Shaking my head in despair at his attitude, I felt much wiser and more knowledgeable than him. I could also tell that he knew I was feeling such things for he glowered at me in a way that he never had before.

"You're not the only one with brains around here," he stated hotly. "It takes smart people to do what I do!"

I smiled patronizingly and clapped his shoulder. "I'm sure it does. Good night Nibs."

With that I dissuaded all arguments by turning my back on him and going to the bed with the rest of the Lost Boys. After a while I felt the boys shift as Nibs got into the bed and it was only then that I fell asleep.

I woke up the next morning to the Twins bouncing on my thin body. I yelled at them to stop but they ignored me and my morning ire. They hit me with pillows and shouted something about going on an adventure. It was hard enough to tell them apart when awake but with eyes blurred with sleep it almost looked as if I was seeing double. I shook my head to clear it and sat up quickly, causing them to tumble down the bed, laughing and shrieking most awfully. I glanced beside me and saw that only Nibs was still asleep. How he could have slept through that racket I had no idea.

I dragged myself out of the bed and stumbled over to where Tootles and Curly were.

"No sign of Peter?" I asked, stifling a yawn as I picked up a piece of fruit and began to bite into it. Tootles shook his head and Curly nodded to the fruit.

"Worm in that one," he stated. I spit it out of my mouth instantly and grabbed another one, inspecting it closely before putting it between my lips.

"Let's go now! Now! Now!" the Twins said in unison, tugging on our sleeves. I wiped my arm across my mouth to clean the juice off my face.

"Nibs needs to wake up first," I said, pointing to the prone Lost Boy. The Twins needed no further instruction. Quick as bees to honey, they swarmed around Nibs, poking, prodding, pinching, and punching. He groaned and feebly tried to fight back but it was no use. Finally he leaped from the bed with a cry and began to chase them around our underground home. This was a daily occurrence so we others paid them no heed.

Finally things quieted down enough for Nibs to get something to eat and for the Twins to find out what we were going to be doing that day. They cheered when we told them we were going to play tricks on the pirates and Nibs narrowed his eyes.

"I thought we were going to fight!" he complained. I waved a hand beside my ear as if shooing away his words.

"We will, we will," I said with as much patience as I could muster. He scowled at my tone but then shrugged and, with a much lighter and happier expression, he skipped off to find his bow and arrow. Curly and Tootles excused themselves to do the same. I got my sword and bow and arrows and helped the twins pick their weapons.

Soon we were off, whispering to the Twins what our battle plan was. I had consented to going southwest, so that both my way and Nibs way could be taken (although I still pointed out that my way would have been best). Nibs really was our best battle planner, but he was just so illogical sometimes. Clearly our best chance of winning was to take the pirates by surprise, so south would be the way to go. But I don't think surprise was on Nibs's mind. Of course he would have chosen the south if he wanted to surprise them, I knew that. He wasn't stupid. So something else must have been brewing in his brain and I thought I knew what it was.

Slipping to the side, I waited until Nibs had passed me before I jogged up to walk beside him. He glanced at me and grinned slightly, and I could see the excitement building up inside of him. Nibs always liked a good battle, better than anyone besides Peter. That was why Peter chose him as the one to plan all our battles.

"You're going to kill him, aren't you?" I asked bluntly and watched as his smile faded and his expression grew hard.

"What? This is just for fun, you said. We're just going to rough them up a bit." He shrugged and tried to look puzzled although I could see the truth behind his hard eyes.

"I know what I said," I snapped, feeling like he was avoiding the subject. "But you're going to kill him anyway, even though Peter told you not to that one time."

Nibs scoffed and flicked his hand at me. "That's just cuz the lout was sleeping and unarmed. This time, he'll be ready and I'll gut him." He nodded absently.

I sighed in impatience. "Just because he stole your blanket, doesn't mean you've got to kill him for it! Wait until a big battle, you can gut him then. It's unprofessional to go after him like this, singling him out. Only Peter and Hook do that."

Nibs clenched his fists. "My mother made me that blanket!" he hissed between clenched feet.

Oh, I had not realized that. However I kept up a superior expression.

"How do you know?" I said. "You don't even remember your mother!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do TOO!" He jumped on me then and we went rolling off through the underbrush, kicking and scratching and biting and yelling. I could not see the other Lost Boys any more, but I was sure they could hear us. Probably all of Neverland could hear us. I now regretted saying that about his mother, because I was slight and small for my age and Nibs was wiry and strong.

He got on top of me and sat on my stomach, bouncing slightly and causing me to groan in pain.

"Say uncle," he commanded. I grimaced and tried to push him off, not ready to give up so easily.

"Say uncle!" he yelled, bouncing harder. I gritted my teeth and wished he did not always go bare-chested so I could have had something to grab on to. As it was I had to push with all my might upwards so that we were rolling around on the forest floor once more.

We did not stop rolling until we were suddenly in water. That seemed to make both of us come to our senses. We sat up sputtering, shaking water out of our hair, sending crystal-like droplets everywhere. I sneezed and Nibs glanced at me. Suddenly he began to giggle. I raised my eyebrows.

"Good fight," he said, giggling again. I snorted and shivered, sneezing again. It was cold! Whenever Peter left, Neverland grew dark and stormy and eventually it snowed and almost froze over. We were still in the stormy stage but it was cold enough for me to start shivering violently sitting there in the water.

I stood and looked around, then stopped still when I realized where we were.

"Nibs," I said in a hoarse whisper. "Get up slowly and get out of the water . . . right now."

He looked puzzled but began to stand slowly. "Why?" he asked.

"Just listen to me." My eyes were fixed on something in the water. He stood beside me and turned to look where I was. His eyes widened and we both took a sharp breath.

Two pairs of luminous eyes were watching us from underneath the water. Slender webbed hands rose up and began to stroke our bare toes. We shivered and the heads of two mermaids broke the surface of the lagoon, holding our gazes. We were completely mesmerized.

"What sweet looking boys," said one in a cooing voice that held a mysterious and sensual quality. She had red hair and her spots were somewhat reddish. "What wonderful, beautiful boys." Her icy cold webbed fingers curled around my ankle. I barely noticed.

A dark haired one with black spots was talking softly to Nibs in the same voice. I stole a glance at him and saw that he looked rather dazed as he gazed into the gleaming eyes of his mermaid. Red clucked her tongue at me and I blinked at her. Suddenly I heard something that sounded like the crowing of a cock out in the distance. My head instantly jerked up. Peter! Red hissed as her spell over me was broken. She let go of my ankle and I scrambled away.

Nibs, however, was still caught in Black's eyes. She had her hand, flipper, whatever it was, wrapped around his ankle and was drawing nearer.

"Nibs run!" I yelled as loud as I could. He glanced over his shoulder at me, but not in time to save himself. With a jerk Black had him down on his backside and sliding into the water. He gave a yell of terror that was quickly cut off as he sank beneath the water.

I yelled in terror as well as horror. I am not proud to say that I completely lost control of myself for a few seconds, screaming and running around in circles like a dying chicken. Finally I got a hold of myself and tried to think rationally. Nibs was young and strong . . . perhaps he could save himself.

I am also ashamed to say that for a few tense moments I believed myself. However when the water did not break and Nibs's light brown head did not return above the water, I realized I had made a mistake and one of my best friends had drowned. I threw myself on the ground in remorse and anguish, sobbing wretchedly and feeling the weight of guilt lie heavy on my heart. Nibs was gone.

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**Don't worry, obviously Nibs doesn't die. :-P Review and tell me what you think. :-)**


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

I trudged back to where the other Lost Boys had stopped to wait for us. When they saw me wet and without Nibs they clamored around me, begging me to tell them what had happened. In a hollow voice I told them what had transpired between us and the mermaids. They were shocked and horrified at the tale. The Twins began to cry. Tootles stood still, pale and dumbfounded. It was Curly's reaction that surprised me the most.

Sweet, kind, quiet Curly suddenly leaped upon me with a vengeance, pounding his fists into me and crying "Coward! Coward! Coward! You let them take Nibs! You did nothing! You just stood there and let them take him!"

I found myself rolling through the bushes once more, this time with mild-mannered Curly on top of me. I was too surprised to fight back. Tootles came to my rescue. Snapping out of his stupor, he grabbed Curly's arm and dragged him off of me.

"Stop it!" he cried, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Stop it! Just stop it! I _hate_ it when we fight! Look where it got Nibs? So just stop it!"

Curly wiped his nose on the back of his arm and I fingered a split lip tenderly. I noticed then that Curly was crying too. He stuttered an apology, growing limp and sinking to the forest floor, burying his face in his hands. Tootles gathered us both into a group hug and the Twins flung their small bodies into the pile. This was not supposed to happen, my logical mind kept telling me as we all cried for our lost friend. We were the good guys in this story. None of us were supposed to die. Only pirates died. What had gone wrong?

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Nibs's head surfaced the water in a great splash and he took a deep breath of air. Quickly swimming to shore, he crawled up onto the bank, shivering violently in the cool air. He was completely naked save for the buckskin undergarment that we all wore underneath our britches for when the day grew unbearably hot. Sometimes we went without clothes at all, but we rarely went more than a few feet away from wherever we were playing when we did. We never knew when an Indian squaw would pass by.

Nibs looked around, wondering if anyone had come looking for him. No one had and the sun was setting. He was too cold and worn out to be frightened of being alone. His battle with the mermaid had drawn out much of his strength and he could barely raise his head to drag himself farther away from the water.

He stumbled into a clump of bushes and crawled in among them, holding himself and shivering in the undergrowth. He drew his knees up to his chest and placed his head between them. It was then that he let the hot tears spill out onto his damp cheeks. How long he stayed there he did not know. After a while however, his strength returned enough for him to stand and gather his bearings. Nothing looked familiar, but everything appears different in the night time.

He started walking. He did not know where he was going, or how to get there, all he knew was that he had to put as much distance as he could between himself and the water. Deeper and deeper into the forest he walked. After a while he started seeing lights in the distance. Thinking it was the House Under the Ground, he hurried toward it. The silence of the forest was suddenly broken by his anguished cry of frustration when he realized it was only a fairy tree. Not caring about upsetting the fairies, he pounded his fists against the tree, throwing a tantrum as only an eleven-year-old boy lost in a wood could.

Enraged fairies flew up around him, pinching his skin with their tiny fingers and pulling savagely at his hair. He swatted at them as if they were flies. They simply came right back and abused him some more, screaming at him in their small, high voices. Finally the pain became too great to stay in one place. Flailing his hands around his head in an attempt to rid himself of them, he ran away from the tree, growling and cursing at them under his breath.

When he got far enough from the fairy tree to no longer be a threat, the fairies began to peel off and fly away, still scolding him and warning him never to come back. Now covered in miniscule bruises, his scalp throbbing from the hair-pulling, he threw himself down onto the ground in the middle of a glade and buried his face in his arms, angry tears spilling down his cheeks.

"Why didn't he wait for me?" he cried, pounding his fists on the ground. "He should have been there! Why did he leave me?" His sobs became more intense as something deeper than my leaving him surfaced. "Why did she leave me?" He was talking about his mother, I knew as soon as he told me. He was angry at her for letting him fall out of his pram and for not claiming him in the required six days. He liked to fight and play around with the boys because then he did not have to think about it. He hated being alone like this . . . that was when these feelings came.

He did not know how long he had been laying there but he began to get that uncomfortable feeling one gets when one thinks he is being watched. The hairs rose on the back of his neck and he sat up slowly, looking around with bloodshot eyes. Some bushes rustled and he stood. Spotting a somewhat sharp stick lying nearby, he picked it up and brandished it like a weapon as he approached the bushes. With an awful growl he plunged into the shrubs and then stopped abruptly, almost tripping over himself when he realized who was behind the branches.

It was a young Indian squaw, not more than seventeen winters old. She was looking at him curiously and he realized he must have looked a fright with red eyes, dirt covering his sinewy body, his hair plastered to his face yet also sticking up in all directions for it was still wet. Leaves and sticks as well as dirt clung to his hair and he looked more like a savage than the savage before him did. He lowered the weapon and tossed it to the side with disgust at himself for letting a squaw catch him off guard.

She said something to him then in a soft voice. Unfortunately she spoke in her native tongue which Nibs only knew a little of. He scrambled to think of words he knew that might help him.

"Uh, you here what doing?" he asked, grimacing slightly at how primitive that sounded.

She smiled gently. "Boy hurt?" she asked cautiously in English, causing Nibs to sigh in relief. He shook his head.

"Lost," he admitted, gesturing around him and then shrugging, indicating that he did not know where he was. The squaw nodded sympathetically.

"You come," she said, beckoning him to follow her as she turned and began to make her way through the trees. Nibs only hesitated briefly before trotting after her like a little brown puppy. She was only about a head and a half taller than him, but her legs were long enough so that she had to slow her steps in order for him to keep up. Her long black hair was tied back in two pigtails and she wore no war paint, which surprised Nibs. He had only ever seen Indians in war paint. He wondered if this squaw fought. He knew Princess Tiger Lily fought even though she was a girl, but not many other squaws did. He figured this must be one of those that did not.

The trek through the wood did not last very long. Nibs was surprised to see how close he actually had been to the Indian village. Slightly apprehensive, yet very weary and now also hungry, he followed the squaw to her tent. She let him inside and gestured for him to sit. Moving to the fireplace in the middle of the teepee, she picked up a bowl of what appeared to me some sort of stew and handed it to him, sitting down across the fire from him. Nibs took the food gratefully and dug in viciously. It was gone much too soon but all he had to do was look piteously at the pot still over the fire and she smiled and gave him some more.

When he was done with that bowl and had set it aside with a satisfied sigh, she pointed to face.

"Singing Rain," she said, introducing herself. Nibs allowed a small smile, wiping his mouth on his arm before pointing to his chest.

"Nibs," he said shortly. She nodded and smiled.

"Nibs," she repeated, as if trying out the name. "Brother speak of Lost Boys," she added thoughtfully.

"Brother?"

"Leaping Buck."

Nibs thought for a moment before he realized who Singing Rain was talking about. He nodded.

"Right, I know him." He had fought him before too. Leaping Buck was twenty winters, but Nibs had still nearly beaten him. The older boy was strong, but Nibs was strong too. In the end they had to call a draw for neither one was giving in and both sides knew they would wear each other out. Leaping Buck had a quick laugh and an even quicker knife. He had promised to teach Nibs how to throw one someday. Nibs wondered if the Indian could teach him while he was here in the village.

Having no knowledge that all us other Lost Boys were grieving his demise, he agreed to stay the night, eager to see Leaping Buck and have his first knife throwing lesson. Leaping Buck himself laughed aloud at Nibs's enthusiasm on the subject, but convinced the pleading boy that it was too dark outside.

He slept peacefully in the teepee, with Leaping Buck and Singing Rain across the fire, much better than he slept in the House Under the Ground. Since there was only one bed that we all slept in, it could get rather uncomfortable. And so he slept, with not a care in the world, just as a little boy should.

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Meanwhile, we Lost Boys had a terrible time. The Twins cried themselves to sleep. Curly and Tootles and I had a hard time relaxing our minds in order to encourage sleep. I sat with my head in my hands while Tootles nervously chewed on his fingernails beside me. Curly was pacing back and forth, not looking at me, not looking anywhere but at the ground. Back and forth, to and fro, there and back again, over and over. It grew tiresome to hear his continuous footsteps but I had not the heart to command him to cease and desist.

Finally I looked up. "Look," I said. "There's no way we can get him back. Do we want to continue with our plan or not?" I looked between Tootles and Curly, the former who lowered his hand from his mouth, and the latter who gradually stopped pacing until he came to a stop before me.

"I don't suppose we could kill the Mermaids," Curly said, his thin hands clenching tightly.

I grimaced in sympathy but shook my head. Curly's shoulders slumped and he lowered himself onto the ground. His fingers began probing the dirt absently, his mind occupied on other things. Tootles gripped his hands together tightly.

"We need Peter," he said quietly, his voice much higher than normal.

I groaned. "I know," I said, dropping my head into my hands once more and shaking it rapidly back and forth as though it would clear my thoughts. Suddenly I had an idea.

"What about the Indians?" I said, lifting my head and looked around at my friends.

Curly and Tootles exchanged a glance. "What about them?" Curly asked warily.

"They could help us!" I said. "With our plan."

"What about Peter?" Tootles asked.

"What about Peter?" I repeated just as Curly had.

"He needs to know about Nibs."

"I know. . . . But if we tell him now, he might kill us! Well, kill me at least. I need to make sure I've done something good so maybe he won't be so angry."

Once more Curly and Tootles exchanged a glance and I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"What?" I asked, feeling apprehensive.

"Um, this isn't only about you, you know," Curly said cautiously.

I narrowed my eyes. "Do you _want_ Peter to kill me?" I asked, incredulous.

"No!" Both Curly and Tootles cried out quickly in the negative. This made me feel slightly better but did little to settle my stomach. I walked over to where the Twins lay and stretched myself out beside them.

"We'll talk more in the morning," I said, not wanting to think anymore, or do anything really, besides sleep. Curly and Tootles exchanged one more look before nodded and lying down other the other side of the Twins.

I looked over them once before closing my eyes. They had their arms around each other and tear tracks were evident on their faces. One of them was sucking his thumb. My face softened and for a moment I almost cried myself. However I forced myself to gather my emotions and putting them away at the back of my brain. Clearing my thoughts of anything sorrowful or stressful, I drifted into a restless sleep.

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**See, I told you he didn't die. ;-) Reviews make me feel warm and fuzzy inside! :-P**


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

I must have slept deeper than I first supposed, for the next thing I knew, I was being shaken awake by several small hands. I bolted upright and knocked the Twins over in the process.

"What?" I hissed, not happy at being awakened in such a way. The Twins glanced at each other and that was when I noticed that Curly and Tootles were gone.

"Where's Curly and Tootles?" I asked. The Twins looked at each other again and then pointed to the ceiling in unison. "They're outside?" I asked for clarification. They nodded solemnly.

"Why?"

"Peter's back." The Twin's eyes were huge.

I am sure my expression soon matched theirs: that wide-eyed look of wonder and fear that had appeared as soon as my ears heard those two dreaded words. I scrambled out of the bed and hastened to make myself look at least half-way presentable before hurrying out of the Home Under the Ground and stumbling into the bright sunlight of the morning. Curly and Tootles were already there, shifting nervously on their feet as a whooping figure dressed in leaves shot through the trees, a bright ball of light beside him.

The stormy clouds had dissipated into a bright spring sky, and the flowers were all in bloom. The trees' leaves shone a bright green and the chattering of animals and the chirping of birds could be heard throughout the forest around us. The dew felt cool beneath my bare feet and as the sun shone down a clump of bushes, the reflection of the sun on the dew almost blinded me. I looked away quickly.

I took my place next to Curly and the Twins stood beside me on my other side. My heart was pounding nearly out of my thin chest as Peter landed in front of us, hands on his hips.

"Great news!" he crowed. "I have heard the ending of Sleeping Beauty!" We Lost Boys exchanged a look of curiosity mixed with apprehension. Did he not see that one of his followers was missing? Apparently not for he went on to describe a great battle scene complete with sword motions and sound effects. We shifted uncomfortably on our feet, waiting for him to end and notice Nibs's absence.

"And they all lived happily ever after!" Peter concluded, sheathing his knife and placing his hands once more on his hips, watching us expectantly.

"Well, that's good news!" I forced out with a tight smile. The boys around me nodded and murmured their agreement. Peter glowed with satisfaction.

"Now we must attack the pirates!" he said suddenly. "They shot at me as I came back." He looked at all of us and slowly frowned in confusion. It was then that I realized he had noticed the nonexistence of one very important Lost Boy.

"Isn't there supposed to be six of you?" he asked, looking over each one of us in question.

Curly dropped his gaze to the ground. Tootles looked up at the sky, squinting against the bright light. The Twins turned toward each other and began digging their small fingers into each other's side, as if trying to get the other to talk first. Finally Peter's gaze rested on me. I knew I could not escape now. I stepped forward and took a deep breath.

"Peter," I started and licked my lips nervously. "Nibs is gone. The Mermaids took him. He's . . . dead."

Peter still looked at me expectantly for a moment as if he did not understand. Then he grew angry.

"They promised me they would not touch any one of my Lost Boys!" he shouted, his face growing red with rage.

The Twins stopped poking each other and looked at him with wide eyes. Curly flinched and glanced sidelong at me. Tootles cringed and clenched his cubby fists to help relieve some of his stress. I'm sure my face paled for I felt the blood drain from it. Glancing once more at Curly, I noticed that he looked ready to step forward and take the blame himself. I gritted my teeth and spoke up quickly, not wanting Curly to get in trouble for something I had done.

"It-It's my fault Peter," I said softly and he looked sharply at me. "I-I didn't go after him."

He narrowed his hazel eyes at me, as if debating whether or not to punish me. I braced myself for whatever he had in mind.

"Why not?" he asked, stepping toward me. I kept my gaze on the ground.

"I was-I was afraid," I admitted and glanced up at him. A smirk curled his lips.

"Ha!" he cried. "I am never afraid! I shall rescue him!" He flew up into the air and I had to shout after him:

"You can't! He's dead as in _dead_. No longer living. Not breathing. Dead. Dead. Dead!" I was trembling then, my own hands clenching as he slowly floated to the ground, his face screwed up in an expression I could not read.

The rest of the Lost Boys had stepped back and Peter strode toward me, pulling his dagger out once more. He held the tip up to my throat.

"I should kill you myself before you kill anymore of my Boys," he said softly, contemplatively. I held my head high and tried to calm my trembling.

"Do it Peter," I said confidently, although my voice shook slightly. "I deserve it."

He nodded slowly and pulled back the knife, ready to plunge it into my heart. I could hear the collective gasp of the Lost Boys behind me. I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for the pain and the blood. But before anything pierced me, a voice called out from the trees.

"Peter! Hold your knife!" The voice sounded familiar and my eyes shot open to see Peter turn swiftly toward the voice. I heard the Lost Boys behind me sigh in unison.

Princess Tiger Lily stepped out of the forest, stepping toward us silently, as Indians are wont to do, shaking her head slowly.

"Your Lost Boy is not dead," she said and I could feel my mouth drop open in shock as I'm sure the other boy's did. Peter however, grinned widely.

"I knew he could not be," he said boldly.

When he said nothing else, I felt the need to speak up.

"Well, where is he?" I asked, somewhat breathlessly.

Tiger Lily looked amused. "He is with Singing Rain and her brother Leaping Buck. Singing Rain is the one who found him wandering alone in the woods. He was wet and shivering, the poor thing."

Every single eye in the clearing fixed themselves on me. I felt my cheeks flush heatedly and I dug my bare toes into the soft earth beneath my feet, staring down at them in shame. However my heart was once more pounding restlessly and I could barely keep myself from rushing out of the clearing toward the Indian camp to see Nibs alive for myself.

"Can we go see him?" Finally one of the Twins spoke my mind. We all sucked in our breaths together, waiting anxiously for Tiger Lily's answer. Once more she looked amused.

"Of course," she said, and gestured for us to follow her.

We did so hurriedly, almost tripping over our feet in our haste. Only Peter seemed not in a rush. He rose lazily in the air, looking disinterested in our mad scramble. He spoke with Tinker Bell as he flew above us, laughing at something she said. I was concentrating too much on what I would say to Nibs to notice when he suddenly flew off. I was not surprised when I did notice however, knowing how Peter's attention span wandered easily. Now that he knew Nibs was fine, he was not interested in a heartfelt reunion.

We were all breathless when we reached the camp. Tiger Lily gestured for us to stay and wait for her to bring Nibs to us. We nodded wearily. The Twins were the first to recover and stood close to each other, holding hands tightly. Curly's face was so pale his freckles stood out sharply, he was breathing heavily and when our eyes met for a brief second his gaze retreated to the ground. Tootles wheezed and concentrated on taking deep breaths of air. My hands were shaking so badly I quickly put them behind my back.

The sound of laughter made me lift my head suddenly and turn to my right. There, several yards away, was Nibs, clapping his hands delightedly as the knife he had just thrown embedded itself into the trunk of a tree quite a ways ahead of him. We watched as a tall, handsome Indian walked over to the tree and pulled the knife out, walking back to Nibs and handing it back to him. Then Tiger Lily appeared and said something to Nibs which made his head jerk up. My breath caught in my throat. Tiger Lily pointed to where we Lost Boys stood and I heard Curly inhale sharply.

My heart thudded a strange rhythm in my thin chest as Nibs sheathed his knife and made his way toward us. The Twins began bouncing on their toes lightly and before he had quite reached us, they took off toward him, tackling him to the ground with great shouts of joy and relief. Curly suddenly grinned and color returned to his cheeks as he turned to beam at Tootles. Tootles was grinning as well and gave a yelp of excitement, joining the Twins on the pile. Curly soon joined them. Only I hung back, unsure of what Nibs's reaction to seeing me again would be.

It took several minutes for him to even notice me; the boys jumping on him took up most of his attention. When the screaming, laughing, and tackling died down, he sat up suddenly and his light blue eyes met my brown ones. Then he stood up slowly, pushing the Twins away as he did. I swallowed hard as he made his way toward me. Finally he stood directly in front of me.

For a long time we stared at each other. Then I opened my mouth to apologize. Before I could, however, I found I was unable for all my breath left me in a _whoosh_ as he punched me hard in the stomach. I was too surprised to retaliate and doubled over in pain, groaning and clutching my midsection. Nibs simply stood there while I recovered. I looked up at him and grimaced.

"What was that for?" I gasped loudly. The Lost Boys were looking on with eyes wide with surprise.

"That's for leaving me at the lagoon," Nibs said haughtily, crossing his arms and looking down at my cringing form.

"I thought you were dead!" I cried, straightening with another grimace.

"So?" Nibs shot back, clearly not going to let me go easily. "You could have tried to save me."

"I was scared!" I finally admitted, shouting now, tears of frustration gathering in my eyes as well as tears of relief that he was alive. Nibs blinked and then slowly smiled.

"Ha," he said quietly. "I knew you were."

I looked at him in surprise and then grinned faintly. "I was not," I denied, even though I had just confessed not two seconds ago.

"Was too," Nibs took the bait gleefully.

"Was not!"

"Was too!"

"Not!"

"Too!"

Nibs was giggling now, and I could not help but laugh as well. The Twins started laughing too, although I doubted they knew what they were laughing at. Curly and Tootles looked greatly relieved and they began chuckling. Tiger Lily rolled her eyes as if at our stupidity and walked away with Leaping Buck, leaving us to our own devices. After a while our laughter died down and we just stood around grinning at each other. Then Nibs suddenly asked:

"Where's Peter?"

We looked around and saw that Peter had indeed disappeared. Puzzled, I tried to recall when I had seen him last. I remembered that he had flown off to the south but could not think of where he could have gone. However we did not have to wonder for long, for suddenly the sound of a cock's crow echoed through the forest. We all jumped in unison and turned toward the sound.

Peter flew in and landed among us. He gave Nibs only a brief look of satisfaction before addressing us all.

"Hook is on the move!" he declared. "He and his gang of dastardly pirates are heading this way to ambush the Indians! We must fight!"

I looked around at the boys surrounding him. None of us had any weapons besides Nibs and his was only a knife.

"Um, weapons Peter?" I asked, stretching out my arms to show him that I, along with everyone else, was unarmed.

He looked thoughtful for a moment then nodded. "Very well, you and Curly will go get our weapons, the rest of us shall stay here and await the battle." His eyes gleamed with excitement and I knew better than to argue with him on the verge of what had the potential to be an exciting game. Curly and I exchanged a glance before we nodded to our leader and sped off into the forest.

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**Ah, nice little heartfelt reunion there. ;-) Please review and tell me what you think! :-D**


	5. Author's Note

Since I am participating in NaNoWriMo this year (that stands for National Novel Writing Month) I'm afraid updates on all my stories will be rather slow in coming. I really will try to get some chapters up but trying to write 50,000 words in one month requires a lot of time. Don't worry though; as soon as November's over I'll be back with more updates much more frequently. Thank you all for being so patient with me and for being so faithful in your reviews! ::Gives out virtual cookies as a thanks::

Oh and Happy Halloween and (Early) Thanksgiving!

Ryan Brooklyn


	6. Chapter Four

**Hehe, yes I'm alive and so is this story. Sorry it took so long to update.**

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****Chapter Four**

When we arrived at the House Under the Ground, Curly and I wasted no time in gathering up as much weapons and armor as we could. The armor only consisted of thick bark that was placed on our fronts and backs, but it stopped arrows and most blades (if they were not sharp enough), so it served its purpose. While we were stuffing said armor and weapons into our bed sheet in order to carry it easier, Curly spoke to me.

"It's not your fault, you know," he said softly, carefully avoiding my gaze. I froze for a fraction of a second before shrugging off his words.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I muttered, fingering my favorite knife briefly before putting it with the rest of the weapons.

"We're just kids," he went on as if he had not heard me. "We can't be expected to act rationally when something like that happens."

"I just stood there." I stared at the pile of weapons and armor, arranging them by size methodically.

"You were frightened."

"I was a coward. It's my fault."

"No it's not."

I glanced up at Curly, frowning at the compassionate look in his freckled face. His blue eyes searched my face, for a look of comprehension no doubt. I had to look away. His eyes reminded me too much of Nibs's, wide with terror as he sank beneath the water.

"Listen to you talk," I said scornfully, standing and tying together the four corners of the sheet so that it made a large bundle. "Who was the one to attack me when he found out about my mistake? Who was the one to call me a coward to my face? You're such a—a—a hypocrite!" I was not sure what the word meant, but it sounded right. Curly flinched slightly and turned his face away, but I paid him no heed.

I stormed out of the House, dragging the bundle of weapons and armor behind me. I had only marched a few steps when I heard Curly come up beside me. Choosing to ignore him, I plowed on through the underbrush. He kept up doggedly with me. When I glanced at him, he opened his mouth to say something, but I quickly turned away before he could. After a while of this stony silence of mine, I heard him sigh.

"I'm sorry," he said, so quietly I almost missed it. Something in his voice caused me to stop and turn to face him. He looked at me with wounded eyes, and my heart softened slightly. No one could stay angry at someone like Curly for long.

I reached over and clasped his shoulder. "So am I."

He gave me a tentative smile. I returned it and then gestured for him to help me with the bundle. Together we hefted it through the rest of the forest to the Indian village. The sound of fighting reached our ears before we arrived. Exchanging horror-stuck looks, we began to run, the bundle bouncing against our legs rather painfully.

When we arrived at the clearing which held the Indian village, we stood with our mouths open wide. The place was total chaos. We were too late. Squinting through the smoke of the fires that had started among the teepees, I searched for signs of the Lost Boys. I then saw the Twins fighting off two giant pirates with wooden sticks. Their little faces were dirty and even from where I stood I could see the terror on their faces. The entire village had been taken completely by surprise. Peter's warning had come too late.

"Lost Boys!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, lifting a sword from the bundle at my feet. "To me! To me!"

Curly began spreading out the armor and the weapons hurriedly as the Lost Boys broke cover and came running over to me. The Twins had a harder time getting away, but when Nibs threw his knife into the leg of one of the pirates fighting them, the pirates fell back and the Twins were able to get away.

They crowded around me and Curly, picking up weapons and slipping armor on as fast as they could. Nibs was laughing at something and the Twins grabbed the same sword and began fighting over it. In the middle of the commotion I noticed something.

"Where's Peter?" I asked, shouting to be heard over the noise.

"He went after Hook!" came the answer from the middle of the wiggling boys.

"Fantastic!" I shouted sarcastically, picking up a sword while putting on some armor.

"Who cares? More pirates for us!" Nibs shouted, lifting his sword into the air. He turned toward the burning teepees. "CHARGE!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, racing toward the fighting pirates and Indians. The other boys did not hesitate to follow. With shouts and cries and even some laughter, we ran headlong into the battle.

It took a while before our courage and tenacity drove the pirates away. The Indians were very grateful to us. Lifting us high on their shoulders, they carried us around while shouting war whoops. But while we were congratulating ourselves, I noticed someone from our group was missing. Looking around quickly, I heard sounds of a struggle as well as shouts of pain coming from my right. Without stopping to question the source, or consult with the others, I struggled to get down and once my Indian had dropped me, I ran after it.

What I came upon was a pirate dragging Nibs through the underbrush by his hair. I knew I could not let someone take Nibs away from us again. With a great war cry, I flung myself on the pirate's back, hitting him over and over on the back of his head with the hilt of my sword. He let go of Nibs's hair, and the Lost Boy quickly stabbed the pirate in the foot. Accosted at all sides, the pirate shook me off of him and ran off into the trees as fast as he could on one leg.

Nibs laughed and started to stand. Almost immediately however, he fell to the ground with a sharp hiss of pain. I looked him over worriedly.

"You okay?" I asked, kneeling beside him. He pulled back a tear in his pants to show a gash on his thigh. I grimaced. "Ouch."

"Yeah," Nibs agreed, wincing slightly as he touched the bloody cut. "He got me near the end there."

"Can you walk on it?" I asked, concerned that we would not be able to get back to the others. He paused, as though gauging his ability to stand. Slowly he pushed off the ground. He was able to stand on his unhurt leg, but whenever he put weight on the injured one, he would hiss and lift his foot off the ground.

"Here, lean on me," I offered, placing my arm around his back and propping him upward.

"I don't need your help," Nibs insisted, pushing away from me and hopping forward on one foot, using trees to help him along. I watched him for a moment, shaking my head at his stubbornness. I followed along behind him, keeping a careful eye on him. Twice he stumbled and twice I reached out to help him and twice he shrank away from me. I sighed and continued on my way.

Finally we reached a spot where there were no trees to hold onto. The village was before us and the Lost Boys were speaking to some Indians and had not seen us yet. I turned to Nibs who was standing uncertainly at the edge of the tree line. I held my hand out to him and he scowled at me for a moment before relenting and hopping forward to lean on my arm. I helped him across the clearing.

Singing Rain saw us and hurried over, clucking her tongue in sympathy over Nibs's wound. She gestured us to follow her to her tent and we did so, exchanging puzzled glances. Inside she made Nibs lie down on the ground and she looked over his wound. His ears turned slightly pink as she cut the hole bigger, exposing his thigh. He looked over at me and I adverted my gaze until the dressing had ended, sparing him some embarrassment. When the wound was bound, Nibs found he could walk on it, albeit with a slight limp.

We went back out to the boys who exclaimed joyously at our moderately safe return. They gathered around us and we began retelling our respective fights with the pirates, reveling in the fact that they had turned tail and run away. Peter had not returned and I figured he had forgotten about us, hopefully because he was celebrating a victory over Hook.

Together we Lost Boys headed back to the House Under the Ground. Once we were there Curly treated the Twins who both had identical scratches on their faces. I wondered vaguely how they had obtained those but when I asked they only grinned.

Tootles looked depressed that Nibs had gotten so wounded as to be limping, but Nibs proudly showed off his bandage and greatly exaggerated the story of how he got the wound. I simply rolled my eyes at his tall tales, not seeing how any of the boys could believe that he had fought off ten pirates single-handedly. However it made a good story and I could see the others were sucked in like the gullible children they were.

The Twins drifted off to sleep soon, exhausted from the exciting day. Tootles and Curly took awhile longer but they eventually dropped off as well. Nibs's leg pained him and he tossed and turned some before falling asleep. Soon only I was awake, staring up at the roots above me. A _whoosh_ of air and Peter flew into the room, somewhat out of breath but none the worse for wear. I sat up suddenly and blinked at him.

"Where were you?" I hissed suddenly, surprising both myself and him at the question.

"Fighting Hook," Peter said and then grinned cockily. "I won."

_Of course you did,_ I thought._ You wouldn't be standing here if you hadn't._

"Nibs got hurt. Did you know?" I glanced over at the other boy, sweating slightly in his sleep from the pain I knew he was experiencing.

"He'll be alright," Peter said with an indifferent shrug. "You all always are." He grinned again. I wanted to tear my hair out in frustration.

"You don't get it do you?" I asked him, and then started, not having meant to say that out loud.

"Get what?" Peter asked with a faint, curious smile, tilting his head. I scrambled for an answer but I barely knew what I was talking about myself. And none of us had ever contradicted Peter before.

"Nothing," I muttered. "Never mind."

Peter shrugged and promptly forgot about the conversation, flying over to his rocking chair and settling down in it, pulling out his flute and beginning to play. With a sigh I lay back down and tried to sort out my muddled thoughts, wondering what in the world had caused me to speak up like that. I told myself never to approach Peter like this again, it felt too strange and I knew from experience that he would not understand anything I said.

I sometimes felt older than a Lost Boy and that frightened me. Peter hated adults and if he knew I sometimes acted and thought older than my age, he might throw me out of Neverland. That was a Lost Boy's worst nightmare. I squeezed my eyes shut then and tried to go to sleep, letting Peter's music sooth my tormented mind.

One of the Twins moved in his sleep, slinging an arm over my shoulder. I smiled slightly and turned toward him, pulling our one blanket up over his shoulder from where it had slipped, placing his hands together under his head. He snuggled closer to his brother and sighed softly. I patted his head and then looked over at Peter, he was watching me curiously.

"We need a mother," I stated factually, and then fell asleep, unsure what exactly had triggered that statement.

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**My idea has shifted slightly from when I first began, and it's starting to have an actual plot. So it should be done soon. I percieve only a couple more chapters. :-) Review and tell me what you think of this one! :-D**


	7. Chapter Five

**A/N: Sorry for such the long wait! But then, not many people have been reading this and therefore inspiration came slowly as I really felt "why bother?" =( Thankfully I got some inspiration and here's the next chapter. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: **_The dialogue from the break to the end of the chapter is from the 2003 movie Peter Pan and therefore I do not own it._

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**Chapter Five**

What happened next confused Nibs, for he had never seen Peter act in such a way. I was dead to the world at this time, but Nibs told me later what happened. It made more sense to me, but this was of course after we came to live in England.

Nibs had been asleep, but the pain in his leg woke him up after a while. He lay still though, trying to go back into the blissful world of unconsciousness. However a noise caused him to open his eyes slightly. Peter was there, standing with his hands on his hips, staring down at the sleeping Lost Boys, a thoughtful expression on his face.

He knelt beside Nibs and reached out hesitantly, brushing his hand against the flushed skin of the boy's forehead. Frowning slightly, Peter touched his own forehead, and then Tootles's, then laid it back on Nibs's. He inhaled sharply and Nibs knew he was feeling the heat.

Peter then sighed, rocking back on his heels, a frown on his face. "I don't need a mother, Tink," he said to the light hovering by his shoulder. "But I think the Lost Boys do. I'm not taking very good care of them, am I?" He sighed and there was a faint tinkling, too faint for Nibs to make out the fairy's words.

"How do you explain what happened today?" Peter asked, gripping his hair with both hands. "One of my Lost Boys got hurt! This can't happen again. I'm going to get them a mother." He paused and suddenly his face lit up. "I know just the person too!" Leaping to his feet, he flew up and out of one of the many tunnels leading into the Home Under the Ground, Tinker Bell flying after him while chattering angrily.

Nibs sat up slowly when they left. He contemplated waking me and the others, but decided not to. If Peter wanted the mother to be a surprise, then Nibs was not about to ruin it. And besides, there was no guarantee that Peter would even remember why he had left the Home Under the Ground. It was more than likely he would get distracted by pirates or mermaids and return with only stories of the adventures they had missed.

000000

It took a couple days before Nib's leg was completely healed. He had a small scar, but not much worth mentioning. Nibs was rather disappointed. I, on the other hand, was relieved. I did not want there to be a constant reminder of how the whole mess got started in the first place. If it was not for me and my pride, none of us would have been at the village.

Peter came back every once and a while, always looking rather thoughtful. During this time we hardly went out to pick fights with the pirates. Most of those days were spent looking for food and wrestling in the undergrowth. Finally Peter went away and did not come back for a long time. I was almost afraid something had happened to him.

I kept up a vigilant watch however, knowing he would have to return sooner or later. Being in charge while Peter was gone, I self-appointed myself as official user of the telescope. We had stolen it from Hook's ship several weeks earlier.

Finally, after a week of watching the skies in vain, the trees began to thaw out, the flowers began to bloom, and a warm breeze filled the air. I exited the Home Under the Ground excited, realizing Peter was finally on his way back. I brought the telescope with me and lifted my gaze to the sky. For a while I didn't see anything, and then, finally, I saw something. Unfortunately I was with the Boys at the time, and naturally they wanted to look through the telescope as well.

"I see something!" I cried, against my better judgment.

"What is it?" Nibs asked, pressing close.

"It's a large white bird," I said, inching away from him while still keeping the bird in my sight. "And quite ugly too."

Instantly I was tackled by all the boys, reaching for the telescope. I had to strain to keep it away from them.

"No!" I cried, keeping my arm far out of their reach.

"Give me it!" one of the Twins shouted, pulling at my arm. I jerked away from him and shouted to be heard over the noise.

"When Peter's away I'm in charge!" That got their attention and they pulled back, pouting. "I get to look through the telescope," I insisted, rather self-righteously I'm afraid. I lifted the scope to my eye once more. "It's coming closer . . ."

Suddenly a brilliant light flashed in the lens. Tinker Bell. I reeled back and grabbed at my eyes, seeing nothing but strange black dots everywhere. "Gah! I've gone blind!" I exclaimed, afraid for a moment that I really had. "I'm blind!"

The boys mocked me as I stumbled around, trying to see something. Anything! I could hear them greeting Tink, but was too preoccupied with my injured state and rather annoyed that my show hadn't created more attention.

"She's blinded me!" I complained.

Finally I realized no one was paying any attention to me and walked up to where Tink was talking into Tootles's ear. He frowned slightly, concentrating hard on her words. We all crowded around, trying to hear for ourselves. Unfortunately I could barely hear anything.

"Tink says the bird's called a . . . Wendy," Tootles translated slowly. "And Peter wants us to . . ." he trailed off with a gasp and we watched as Tink pantomimed someone shooting an arrow into someone else and that someone else falling to the ground dead.

"Shoot it down."

Nibs chuckled deviously. I tried not to roll my eyes. Instead I nodded and got straight to business, relieved that Peter was alright.

"Well, we have our orders. Shoot the Wendy bird."

Everyone grinned and got out their bows and arrows. "Aye, aye!" they cried, setting the arrows.

"Ready? Aim! . . . Fire!" I cried and we all let loose our arrows. They flew up in the air, straight toward the Wendy bird, counting down until they would hit her. We saw it back up as if trying to get away, but one of the arrows struck it straight in the heart. We all watched it fall in awe.

Tootles stepped forward excitedly. "I got it! I got it!"

We all glanced at him, and then at each other, before tearing off towards where the bird had fallen, each of us shouting at the top of our lungs that _we_ had got it. War-whooping and shouting, we burst into a clearing, stopping dead in our tracks when we saw what we had hit.

"_That_ is no bird," I said, stunned, taking a step closer.

"It is a lady," Curly said, his voice sad and awestruck. We had not seen a lady, a _real_ lady since . . . since . . . we could not remember.

"And Tootles," the Twins spoke in unison, looking up with big, round eyes.

We all turned on Tootles. "Tootles has killed her!"

Of course Peter chose that moment to show up, startling us all and making us scramble to stand in front of the poor Wendy lady's dead body. Peter didn't seem to notice.

"Great news! I know what happened to Cinderella," he was saying. "She defeated the pirates. There was stabbing, slicing, torturing, bleeding . . ." he mimicked the movements with his own dagger. "And they lived happily ever after."

We stood there stiffly, unsure of what to do or say.

"W-well," I stammered out, feeling as though I was the only one that could get us out of this situation if I tried. "That's a relief I must say."

The boys agreed half-heartedly. Peter still did not seem to notice our unease. He landed in front of us and came to us excitedly.

"Greater news! I have brought you she that told of Cinderella." I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. All this talk about needing a mother . . . and then we killed her. "She is to tell us stories! She is . . ."

We parted, realizing it was too late at this point. "Dead," I supplied mournfully.

Peter froze and time seemed to stop for a moment. Slowly, he dropped to his knees beside the body. We slowly moved to follow him, crouching down around the Wendy lady and Peter.

"Tragic," I said sympathetically, suddenly _very_ glad it had not been my arrow.

"Awful!" Curly said, tears standing out in his eyes.

"Good shot though," Nibs felt the need to point out, the insensitive git that he was. I glared at him and mouthed "NOT HELPING" as loud as I could.

Peter withdrew the arrow. "Who's arrow," he asked in a low, dangerous voice. I suddenly felt a rush of déjà vu and was once more very, _very_ glad it wasn't mine. Peter turned to Nibs, who in turn looked up at Tootles. Tootles glanced briefly at Curly and Curly opened his mouth quickly, and I slapped my hand to my forehead, knowing Curly was about to take the blame.

"Mine Peter," Tootles said, surprising me by taking off his hat and handing it solemnly to Curly, whose mouth dropped open. Curly began to shake his head, but Tootles knelt down and opened his shirt collar. "Strike Peter. Strike true."

Peter lifted the arrow, looking determined. Tootles squeezed his eyes shut as Curly hid behind the hat. Nibs suddenly did not look so enamored by the whole situation and began chewing nervously on his lip. I buried my face in my hands and the Twins turned their faces away, clutching at each other.

Suddenly, the Wendy lady murmured something, startling us all.

"The Wendy lives!" Curly cried, and we all leaned over to see. Sure enough, we now saw that her chest was rising and falling normally. Peter reached out and withdrew an acorn that was hanging on a chain around her neck. It had a hole in it.

"It's my kiss," he said in wonder. "My kiss saved her!"

"I remember kisses," I said instantly, trying to get attention back on me for a moment. "Let me see." I took the acorn and studied it carefully, having no idea what a kiss was exactly. "Aye, that is a kiss. A powerful thing." I handed it back. "Let us carry her down to the house."

"Hands," Peter commanded and we all held forth our hands for inspection. A moment passed as we all suddenly noticed how filthy we were.

"They're a bit dirty," Curly said apologetically.

Seeing an opportunity for the dramatics, I announced tragically, "then she must stay here and die!"

"No!" Peter snapped, scowling at me.

I hastily pulled back. "Oh, how could I have thought that? Stupid. Sorry." I grimaced and Nibs grinned at me. I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at him.

Peter seemed to think for a moment before leaning forward, drawing us all in. "We shall build a house around her!" he whispered excitedly.

Caught up in the prospect of building a house (really we had been _very_ bored since Peter had left, what with Nibs incapacitated and all). We all cheered and ran off into the forest, gathering sticks and leaves and shouting to each other what we could build. Apparently Peter wanted a chimney and a doorknocker and windows.

It took us the rest of the day to build a house suitable for Peter's standards. It was rather beautiful, with a bunch of orange and yellow and gold leaves. We stood anxiously outside the door, waiting for her to wake up. Peter was off in the Home, preparing himself to be the father I suppose.

"Remember," I instructed the boys as we waited. "First impressions are very, very important . . ." I heard rustling from inside and instantly stood straighter. "Here she is! Look loveable!"

We all grinned as the Wendy lady opened the door. She looked surprised to see us, but not unhappy. I took that for a good sign. Tootles and I took off our hats respectfully. I cleared my throat and looked as endearing as I could.

"Wendy lady, for you we built this house. With a doorknocker—"

"And a chimney!" Tootles interrupted eagerly.

I glanced at the others. "One, two, three," I whispered and we all dropped to our knees and looked pleading, just as we had rehearsed.

"Please be our mother!" we cried as one.

The Wendy lady looked somewhat flustered and she touched her hair self-consciously. "Oh! Well, it is frightfully fascinating. But, you see, I've had no real experience."

Our expressions dropped to ones of dejected sadness. Thankfully one of the Twins, bless him, whichever one he was, spoke up.

"Do you tell stories?" he asked in the sweetest, most enchanting way. What mother could resist that?

"Yes," the Wendy lady said, seeming to know where this was going.

"Then you're perfect," Curly said breathlessly, apparently as taken by her beauty as we were.

The Wendy lady smiled. "Very well. I will do my best."

We leaped from the ground, shouting "Hooray!" and introducing ourselves. I stepped back a bit after I shook her hand and watched as the boys excitedly led her toward the Home Under the Ground (blindfolded of course). I hurried after them, giving my input on the reasons why we must be cautious. As we led the way to our Home, I could not help but grin widely in pride with myself. I knew I had played some part in our finally having a mother.

It was arrogant of me, of course, but I was just a little boy and could not help it. I caught Nibs's gaze as we approached the large tree that marked the entrance to our Home. His eyes were so bright, and his smile was so wide, I felt even better. The Wendy lady had brought something to all of us that we had desperately needed. Not only had we someone to love us, but someone to give us hope that we could be loved, one day, by a family of our own, possibly.

For all children grow up eventually, even Lost Boys. All children . . . except one.

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**This is the second to last chapter. Review and tell me what you think!**


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